Disclaimer: I do not own Monk or any of the characters associated.

A/N:

Hey, I've always wanted to do Monk fanfics. This fanfic is going to detail the appointments Monk has with Dr.Kroger but he may have another case soon.
Who knows? If I get enough reviews, I may start a case! This will be a song-fic, though I'm not showing the lyrics in this chapter. The song is Disorder by Joy Division. Good song. Please read and review!

DISORDER

CHAPTER 1

"Adrian, you look tired. Have you been sleeping?" Dr.Kroger asked, concern written over his face as he examined his patient, Adrian Monk.
"What is sleeping? Closing your eyes and leaving this world...this germ-infested world...oh, I can see the germs right now on your chair."
"Adrian, germs aren't visible, how could you possibly see them?"
"How could you not?! Just crawling around waiting to give you diseases, so they can laugh when you die."
"Adrian, germs don't laugh."
"That's not the point!"
"Adrian, have you had bed bugs?" he questioned, knowing that it would've been near impossible for Adrian to have bugs in his home, let alone his bed.
"No, I wash the sheets everyday."
"Were you sleeping...in your sheets yesterday?"
"No, I was sleeping in Trudy's old sheets."
"Have you washed them?"
"I could never."
"How did you fall asleep with all of those...germs?" Dr.Kroger asked, surprised that Adrian could even tolerate such a thing.
"Well, I went to sleep with my sheets, and then I placed Trudy's sheets over that, and then I placed some sheets on top of that."
"Adrian, I think...somehow, the bed bugs from Trudy's old sheets have infested your bed. And those bugs are visible," he stated, though only keen eyes could see them. Adrian Monk, however, had such eyes.
Monk gasped slightly. "Of course."
"You're going to have to wash those sheets."
"I can't...It's Trudy. That would be like...washing Trudy away."
"Adrian, Trudy's...gone. Perhaps you could use this as an experience of closure."

Setting: MONKS BED

Dark chocolate eyes stared at the bed in front of him, a solemn expression upon his face as he slipped on his plastic gloves, picking up Trudy's old sheets and carrying them to the laundry. Sighing deeply, he poured detergent on them and began brushing away--the germs, the memories/

But he could never forget, for Trudy's essence still lingered.